Piscarius Poetry

250 million years ago
pretty much everything died.

Long before the dinosaurs we
know from school and Hollywood
stamped around eating cavemen
armed with Clovis point spears.

[Ook. Unconformity – the very essence]

There were lots of really
beautiful reefs then – full of
happy aquatic life: trilobites;
ammonites the size of truck
wheels; all sorts of pretty
bivalves and sea lillies.

Now they haunt the Guadalupe
Mountains and rattlesnakes
and lizards sun themselves
on the dry reefs of West Texas.

))){

_{Autumn – leaves on wind
I just stepped in dog poop
Alas! My new shoe}

))){

Intermittent river with
stony shore, shingly shore.

Important building in
built-up area by abandoned
railroad.

Examples of conspicuous
landmarks as pictorial
symbols.

Watermill; well; pavillion;
silo or elevator.

Promenade pier. Quay and
minor posts and piles.

Mean lower low water
and highest astronomical
tide.

Degaussing range and
submarine exercise area.

_{The poetry of NOAA Chart No.1}

))){

The finest things
of all unreservedly.

I (can) hold in my palm.

My thoughts of you
are ever expansive.

But I can compress
all them into my
closing fist.

Which I (can) press
against my chest.

My heart beats quick &
lilting: Moqueca de amor.

(then) I open
closed hand and, Ha!
L’amour a des ailes

(but, assuredly)

Smack into your
(oh-so) kissable

..lips, sweet thing.

Olive you

_{for loquacious}

))){

I scratched a match
in the dark

Lit a small votive
and scented candle
Cinnamon and spice

Curled in my bag

Contemplated the
very small flame

Blinked my brown
eyes

Oncely and twicely

Content was I

And a big fucking
moth flew into
the very small
candle and died
a small but
flapping death

And my small candle
evening was plunged
into a moth-death-induced
darkness, so

I went to sleep

Because the smallest
happy flame might
be put out at any
moment without a
single breath

))){

In B flat

Because you knocked
me down.

You played my heart
strings pizzicato:

Whenever I kiss you
or you I we leave
strings like invisible
spider silk.

Which are really
stretchy; you over
in the land of mini
skirts and football
fight songs.

Me in the land of
fog and rough roads
and cool looking
echinoderms in cold
waters.

Every time I miss
you I feel like I’ve
been tripping over
these strings.

Which lead to
you eventually.

_{for LL}

))){

Rainy day. I am tired
and have been entertaining
relatives.

My coffee – which is
good – steams in my
hand as I look out
the window beaded
with rain, rain, rain.

In my head we’re in
the desert and in your
dark hair and pale,
clear skin you could
be a faerie-maiden.

Dancing on the cool
sands under the moon.

I’d run after you and
chase you and catch you
and kiss you.

The stars would applaud.
Big audience.

))){

Hello your dark hair
streaming night around
me.

Sometimes I feel I’m
underwater and you
surround me.

All pale skin and
feverish kisses like
the ebb and flood of
an osculating current.

You’re all around me
and I close my eyes
and I’m anywhere and
nowhere.

And you are ever there.

_{for LL}

))){

didn’t want to play
so we strode forth
and labored under the
overcast whilst the
sun enjoyed a vacation
in Bonaire

...or somewhere

))){

When I was young
which was yesterday

In a way

I used to play with
firecrackers

I was bold

Holding them

..holding until
the fuse grew

Short and shorter
still

..and shorter, yet
until there was
no fuse left

And I cursed and
waved stung fingers

))){